LOVE
by stardustinthesky
Summary: Booth has a gift for Brennan.


**Title: **L-O-V-E

**Author:** Melissa

**Pairing: **Temperance Brennan/Seeley Booth.

**Disclaimers:** As if I owned them. Pff. Oops, I just had a Cordelia Chase moment here.

**Notes: **Fluff all the way! God. Oh, YAY! More than half a Word page! (when I'm lucky) It's been forever since I wrote a non-drabble. Yay me. 

**Muse-ic:** "L-O-V-E" by Joss Stone. I'm so digging the song right now.

L is for the way you look at me 

_O is for the only one I see_

_V is very, very extraordinary_

_E is even more than anyone that you adore can_

_  
__Love is all that I can give to you_

_Love is more than just a game for two_

_Two in love can make it_

_Take my heart and please don't break it_

_Love was made for me and you_

_ "L-O-V-E," Joss Stone_

She looked up curiously when he appeared into her line of sight, standing next to the couch she was currently sitting on, cross-legged. He was standing there, both hands disappearing behind his back and he wore the goofiest grin she had ever seen.

Was it some kind of joke? She looked down at herself and inspected the t-shirt she had stolen in his closet out of her way from his bed to his living room and looked back up at him when she found nothing out of the ordinary.

Plain, old t-shirt that she'd usually wear after having sex. No, making love – because emotionally, it was connecting on a level science couldn't explain. Although she still thought that, physically, it was impossible for two people to become one.

"What's going on?" she asked, a frown forming on her face. He kept on grinning like an idiot and looking like he was having fun at her expense. Which… certainly was the very case.

It wasn't funny, she thought. She had plenty of paperwork to do and she'd have rather done it at the Jeffersonian but he had insisted that it was Sunday and that they'd just spend the day indoors.

When she had finally agreed – he had grinned like a Cheshire Cat, but unlike here where it was bordering on annoying, they had ended up eating breakfast in bed at one in the afternoon.

She could say that the day had been interesting and _satisfying_ but now because of his distraction, she was looking at a giant pile of files sitting on his coffee table. It didn't look very appealing since it was just plain ol' paperwork and didn't involve bones to squint at, like Booth would say, but she had to concede that it needed to be done and over with.

Sensing that a staring contest would ensue, she quickly reported her attention back to the open file before her, twirling the pen between her fingers. Booth's rolling of his eyes went unnoticed by her as he shook his head but it was soon that she looked up at him, _again_, with no clue of what was going on except that now she had no pen at all.

"Booth!" she protested. "I'm in the middle of something!"

He pointed the pen at her, one corner of his mouth going up and she glared at him. "Me too. I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what? Couldn't this wait, I'm working." She gestured to the mess in front of her.

"Bones," he sighed. "It's Sunday."

"So what?" she asked. "What tells you you're not going to waltz in tomorrow morning and go all 'Hey, Bones. Let's go. C'mon, chop, chop,'" she said, trying to impersonate him by changing the inflection of her voice.

He raised his eyebrows and made a face. "I do _not_ talk like that."

"Yes, you do." He could be so infuriating sometimes. "And I want my pen back," she added, snatching the desired object from his hand. She looked at him pointedly, then went back to work.

He threw his free hand and arm up in the air. "Live a little, for God's sake!"

"It's 7 pm! We've been in bed all day! So forgive me if I don't feel like watching TV or smoking."

He looked confused. "Smoking?"

"After the sex."

"You don't smoke," he pointed out. "And not everybody smokes after sex." She punched him lightly in his abdomen and he backed away. "Woa there, no need to get all violent. I was just trying to be sweet and you attacked me."

"Attacked you?" she said incredulously. "You were just standing there, staring and grinning like an idiot!"

"I was trying to get your attention," he said slowly as if talking to a child. "It worked better than I hoped," he mumbled to himself. They glared before she finally relented and let her pen hit the coffee table with a thud.

"Shout."

"It's _shoot_, Bones."

He heaved a sigh, bowed his head and looked down at his bare feet for a moment before looking up with a knowing smile. Suddenly, she wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation and the fleeting thought about how ridiculous they must have looked together from the _very_ start crossed her mind.

But it was how it worked, how _they_ worked since the first time they laid eyes on each other – it couldn't change, _wouldn't_ change. Not that they were willing it to change because it wouldn't be them anymore. It would be pretending to be someone they weren't. Arguing was an inherent part of their working and now intimate relationship and they had to admit it… it was so much more fun this way.

"I guess this," she glanced at the files, "can wait a little longer. But Booth, I—"

"I know," he said dramatically, "you'll want to get back to it ASAP. I understand, I really do but c'mon it's…" he trailed off, realization dawning on him. He was sure that Angela would have gushed about it all week long but apparently, the artist must have been plotting a way to find out what Hodgins had actually planned for her.

Or Angela had told her when she was working and she had barely paid attention. Or forgotten. Maybe both.

"You really have no idea what day is it, aren't you?" When she looked at him blankly, he cocked his head to the left. "I should've known."

"I should have known what? What day is it?" she looked so adorable, completely confused and clueless with those big clear blue eyes looking up at him.

He smiled mischievously and kneeled down on the carpet. She had that moment of utter panic as she watched him, because clearly he knew how she felt about marriage and he wasn't going to propose, was he?

He leaned in dangerously close to her, noses almost touching. "I know that you're against celebrating it, and frankly, I think it's kind of dumb as well but I thought it would be perfect."

And she waited, breathless because she didn't want to say 'no' to him but she couldn't say 'yes' either. Because marriage was an antiquated ritual and she didn't need a ring and religious vows to prove that she loved him.

Yes, she loved him. And contrary to popular belief, she wasn't going to run away screaming. On second thought, if it was indeed an engagement ring he was hiding behind his back, she might flee to her apartment and avoid him for a couple of days. Maybe. Or facing it like an adult. Talking about it would be a good option. They might end up arguing but they could always make up for it later.

_Don't scare me like that, Booth._

Her face broke into a wide smile upon seeing the two roses he held between his fingers. It wasn't her favorite flower but she had the slight feeling he had chosen the colors carefully.

_A yellow rose and a red one._

_Friendship and ever-lasting love._

"Happy Valentine's Day, Bones."

The End


End file.
